


Echo and Narcissus

by the_alchemist



Category: Moby Dick - Herman Melville
Genre: Classical References, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Madness, Non-Sexual Intimacy, References to Shakespeare, Sharing a Bed, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_alchemist/pseuds/the_alchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Here, boy; Ahab's cabin shall be Pip's home henceforth, while Ahab lives."</p>
<p>Character-driven, featuring non-sexual bed-sharing, storytelling and a sort of mutual hurt/comfort vibe. Influences include the eponymous myth, <i>King Lear</i> and ... um ... that old joke about the Sunday School teacher and the squirrel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo and Narcissus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lonelywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelywalker/gifts).



_"There go two daft ones now," muttered the old Manxman. "One daft with strength, the other daft with weakness."_

“There now,” said Ahab. “Aye, sit down, boy. Thou shalt have the bed and Ahab his old hammock.”

Pip sat on the gimballed bed, but would not let go of the captain’s hand, so Ahab sat beside him. “What dost thou think to my cabin then? I’ll warrant many a captain has a grander place, aye, and a neater one too, but this serves my purpose well enough and shall serve thine, if thou wouldst have it so.”

Pip ignored the captain’s words, but gently lifted the weathered hand to his smooth cheek and closed his eyes, as though better to understand its texture.

Ahab waited. Eventually, Pip made a small noise, something like “mmm”, and returned the hand to his lap, still clasping it.

“Thou’rt a strange one,” said Ahab quietly.

“Thou’rt a strange one,” said Pip.

“I am at that,” said Ahab. “But come, I see that weariness gnaws thy soul. Let me tuck thee in. I have a little boy of my own. Didst’ know that? Littler than thou, of course. He has seen four summers and thou ... fourteen? Nay, Peleg said at least sixteen, ‘yet he eats like a sparrow and will take next to nothing as his lay.’ Well, Ahab will see to it thou art paid twice what Peleg said. But come. In, boy.”

Ahab stood Pip up, then lifted the quilt, and helped him into bed. He gently tried to loose himself from the boy’s grasp, but Pip just held on tighter. Ahab put the quilt over him anyway.

“My wife made this,” he said. “She is a kind woman. Ah, child, child: she would know better than cannibal old me how to comfort thee. When I last came home, in agony and still half mad ... well, I do not like to think on that time. But perchance when we come ashore I will bring thee to her. Canst keep a secret, boy? I have sworn to carve her a ring from Moby Dick’s own jawbone. But come, thou art tired.”

Pip looked up at him, and tugged at his hand. “Thou art tired,” he said.

“I? No boy, not I. Ahab hath no need of sleep, his soul is renewed only by the chase. I have not lain down these last three nights, and think I will not slumber again ‘til Moby Dick be slain.”

“Don’t leave me,” said Pip. “They left Pip all alone and all alone he will stay. Even on the Day of Judgment, Pip will be forgot and when the others go to heaven or hell, he will still be floating in the wide sea. Lie beside me, Sir: I would not for anything be like poor Pip.”

Ahab’s craggy face softened. “Well,” he said. “I will stay until thou art asleep, but thou’rt not to fret when thou wak’st to find me gone. I will only be aloft, and I will return to thee. Dost swear thou wilt not fret?” And he climbed into bed beside the boy.

Pip at once drew close, placing his head in the crook of Ahab’s shoulder, and Ahab embraced him. “It seems passing strange to me,” said Ahab quietly, “that any creature would think to find comfort in my arms.” He gently stroked Pip’s back. “Yet it is so.”

“It is so,” said Pip.

“Ah,” said Ahab, “thou Echo.”

“Echo,” said Pip.

“Shall I tell thee the story of Echo and Narcissus, boy? Would that help thee sleep?”

Pip made the “mmm” sound again, which Ahab took as assent.

“Once,” he said, “there was a beautiful nymph named Echo, who loved to talk and sing. Perchance she played the tambourine also, though Ovid writes not of that. One day, she angered the Queen of the Gods, who cursed her in this way: Echo no longer had words of her own, but could only repeat the last words spoken by others.

“Some time after this, Echo saw a handsome young man, Narcissus by name, wandering in the wilderness. She fell passionately in love with him, and drew near, watching him from behind the trees. Narcissus heard her moving, and called ‘is anybody here?’ ‘Here,’ she repeated. ‘Come to me,’ called Narcissus, but Echo could only say: ‘Come to me.’ Then Narcissus cried ‘do not run from me’, and Echo was forced to tell him ‘run from me’. So Narcissus, thinking he was being mocked, scorned her and departed. And poor Echo ran far from the haunts of men, hiding at the back of caves and canyons, calling back their words in mourning for her lost love, all alone.”

“All alone,” repeated Pip, squirming a little in Ahab’s arms.

Ahab moved onto his side, but did not let go of Pip. “As for Narcissus,” he continued, “finding himself thirsty, he stopped at a fountain to drink. But he looked down into the water, and what dost thou think he saw–”

 “A great white whale,” interrupted Pip.

Ahab stopped and leant back to study the boy’s expression. No, not a trace of mockery in those guileless eyes, lit by flickering lamplight. “His own face,” said Ahab. “And he fell deeply in love. All thoughts other than the face in the water fell away from him: he did not eat, not drink, not sleep, but faded away and died ...”

“Poor Narcissus,” said Pip, reaching up and stroking Ahab’s face.

“Aye,” said Ahab, “but that was not the end. The gods took pity him, and turned him to a little white flower, hanging its head by the waterside.”

The two lay in silence for a few minutes. Then, hoping the boy’s closed eyes betokened sleep, Ahab drew back to disengage himself, but the little arms pulled him closer. “Don’t go,” said Pip. “Don’t leave me. Tell me another story.”

Ahab thought for a moment. “Nay,” he said. “Thou must take thy turn if thou wilt have me stay. Thou shalt tell a story, and it will be the story of Pip.”

“You remember Pip, Sir?” Pip’s eyes flew open and his face brightened. “He was a good boy, wasn’t he, Sir?”

“A very good boy. Whatever happened to him? Dost thou think he shall be seen again?”

The smile faded from Pip’s face. “He fell down a long way, Sir,” he said, then looked around like a conspirator before whispering. “All the way to hell.”

“And what does hell look like?” asked Ahab.

“Why Sir,” said Pip. “It very much resembles the jaws of a great white whale.”

Ahab looked again for mockery in the boy’s face, but again there was none. “Aye boy,” he said. “Thou speakst true. But what happened next?”

“They pulled him out, Sir, and the whale had eaten up his soft black heart. They gave him a new heart, but it was carved from hard ivory.”

Ahab frowned. “That wasn’t Pip, boy.”

“You speak true, Sir. It wasn’t Pip they brought back, but me. Pip is all alone at sea.”

 

Ahab awoke to find himself looking up into Pip’s kind face. His head was cradled in the boy’s lap, his pea-coat had been taken off and was hanging from the back of the door, his ivory leg had been carefully placed on the rug beside the bed, and his body was closely wrapped in his wife’s quilt.

Pip’s lips were moving as though he were talking, but no sound came out.

“I must have slept,” said Ahab. “I must have slept very deeply.” There was a strange feeling in his body and mind, which he took a few minutes to recognise as the absence of exhaustion. “I am not ague-proof,” he murmured, sitting up.


End file.
